i'm scared that you won't be waiting on the other side
by MadHatterNO.7
Summary: Before Alex, he hated the mark because he didn't believe in it – not after what he has seen with his mother and father. But after Alex, he hated the mark because it wasn't Alex's name.


**i'm scared that you won't be waiting on the other side**

 **Summary:** Before Alex, he hated the mark because he didn't believe in it – not after what he has seen with his mother and father. But after Alex, he hated the mark because it wasn't Alex's name.

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own any of them.

* * *

i.

London has never felt so big before. Danny lies in bed, smoking. His right ear is pressed against his lumpy pillow, but he can still clearly hear the early morning traffic outside. Even when he walks out of a club, after grinding himself against guys and girls he doesn't recognise and taking drugs like they were candy, London has never felt so big before. Danny doesn't seem to mind when the ashes burn holes in his bed sheet. After he stubs out the cigarette, he stumbles out of bed. He runs a hand through his hair and leaves the house in the same clothes he woke up in.

He's always loved the way he and Alex were at ease with each other. They fill up each other's spaces like no one else does. Despite the fact that they didn't bare each other's names on their wrist, they were a perfect example of being in love. A lot of times, after they have had sex, Danny would marvel at how perfectly their bodies fit each other. He would bury his face in the crook of Alex's neck and their legs would tangle like they were meant to be. Alex would bring their hands together and they would fall asleep holding hands.

It's kind of laughable, the way you look back at it now. Danny lights up another cigarette, breathing in and then breathing it all out. It doesn't make the weight on his chest go away. It doesn't clear, unlike the swirls of smoke he's blowing out. Out of habit, he pulls out his phone, wanting – needing someone that he could talk to about all of this. Then when the screen flickers to life, he realises something. There is no one. Not anymore. Alex is gone.

"Fuck!" He throws the phone onto the ground, then immediately regretting it as he crouches down to pick it up again. As soon as he starts reaching for the phone, the familiarity of this causes laughter to bubble up from Danny's throat. He sits down, head throwing back as he laughs. He brings up his hand to wipe the tears that has started to form in his eyes.

" _Are you okay?"_

Danny's laugh ceases abruptly and slouches against the wall he has been leaning on. He breathes out, tears rolling down as he blinks.

"Me?" He asks no one in particular. "I'm fine."

He pauses.

"I'm always fine."

* * *

ii.

Danny touches his wrist, suddenly aware of its exposure, and pulls down his sleeve to cover it. It's a nervous gesture he has developed over the years. If Danny has ever believed in his mark, he probably wouldn't have had his heart broken so many times. But he has never believed in it, always preferring to think of the mark as a burden of some sort. A weight that prevented him from falling in love with whoever his heart desires. He doesn't want to be with someone just because their wrists were marked with each other's names. He just wants to fall in love.

But when he met Alex, something in him wanted. Wanted something he has never had or wished for since his teenage years. So –

– " _My name is Danny."_

There was no sign of recognition on Alex's face.

" _My name is Joe."_

Later, when Danny stared into Alex's eyes, his hand nervously tucked in his pockets, he felt compelled to ask it again.

" _Can you tell me what your real name is now?"_

Alex had looked at him, his facial expression softer than it had been before.

" _My name is Alex."_

It hadn't been the name on his wrist, but it was enough.

Alex was more than enough.

* * *

iii.

Alex. Alex. _Alex._

One day Alex was still alive and well and in present tense and _still here_ – and then suddenly one day, Alex was.

Alex was beautiful. Alex was brilliant. Alex was a genius. Alex was his boyfriend.

Alex belonged to Danny, just like Danny belongs to Alex.

Alex was in past tense.

* * *

iv.

Danny has never doubted Alex when he said he lost his soulmate before he even knew what it meant because the expression Alex has on his face when he touches his scar says it all.

" _How do you admit to someone you've never been in a relationship? Who wants to hear?"_

The corner of Alex's mouth was slightly lifted to form a small wistful smile. He folded his hand over his wrist, hiding the long thin line of healed tissue across his skin. Danny's eyes fluttered, mouth slightly open, ready to say something – anything.

" _And when they do, who wants to stay?"_

Without hesitation, just like the way he would have said it on their wedding (or something similar) –

– " _I do."_

* * *

v.

"Will you stop worrying about me?"

"Will you stop worrying about _me_?"

* * *

vi.

Danny sits down near the water, taking out another cigarette out of its packet. He doesn't know why he's here, out of all places. But as he lights his cigarette, he realises that maybe, he does.

" _You saw me. What I mean is, you saw me. And you asked if I was okay. And not like most people ask it, like they're asked it a hundred times that day already, you've asked it as if…nothing else mattered to you. And I thought, how is this person, who I've never met before, how are they the only person in the whole world who knows – that I'm not okay. And I was sure if I could just find out your name – if I could just find out who you were…then everything would be okay."_

Alex was the only person he had ever wanted to know the name of. Danny thinks, as he breathes out, vaguely aware of the unevenness of the pebbles beneath him. Being here reminds him of the night Danny told Alex he doesn't buy into all this soulmate system thing. Alex had listened to him silently, eyes soft as he watched Danny fidget with his sleeves. He didn't let Danny finish talking before he closed the distance between them and carefully placed his palm against Danny's palm. He didn't say anything, but Danny knew.

* * *

vii.

"I understand."

* * *

viii.

Somehow he finds his way back to the apartment and somehow he manages to fall asleep in his own bed at a decent hour. Now he's awake at six in the morning, his bed sheets crinkled by his tosses and turns during the night. He's just dreamt of Alex holding him. But the reality is that he's alone in bed missing the warmth of someone beside him.

He stares at the ceiling for a moment, before turning to the side and bringing his arm up to grab his phone, which is supposed to be on his bed side drawer. Almost immediately, he realises that the remains of his phone is still in the pocket of his jeans. He sighs, slightly frustrated, but then his gaze falls on to his soulmark. He sits up, swinging his legs over to the edge. The capsule he taped on last night is still on his chest, but he rubs a thumb over his mark, feeling nothing but soft skin underneath his touch. It's been a name Danny couldn't match a face to for a long time. He still has no desire to do so, but all of this has made it impossible.

Danny stands up, groaning a little when his head pounds a little at the sudden movement. He pulls on a black shirt too big to be his, buttoning it up as he makes his way to the bathroom. He looks at himself in the mirror after he shaves, and notices how tired he looks. He sighs for the thousandth time this week while running a hand through his hair, attempting to flatten it. He puts on a jacket that looks cleaner than the one he was wearing yesterday and closes the door as gently as he can behind him.

He's got something to do.

* * *

ix.

Danny finds his teenage journal in the exact place where he had hid it many years ago. He flicks through it, finding "No one will do this for you" and "I'm falling and I can't turn back. I need a lover to keep me warm and safe." Finally he reaches the page where he rants on about how the soulmate system is nonsense. Quickly closing it, he pulls his shirt up and hides the cylinder with the journal.

Later, when he sits down to smoke, he looks at his exposed wrist and the letters that was printed onto his skin. Before Alex, he hated the mark because he didn't believe in it – not after what he has seen with his mother and father. But after Alex, he hated the mark because it wasn' Alex's name. He wraps his hand around the mark. He finishes his cigarette, careful enough not to dump the cigarette butt there.

Danny thinks he understands now.

* * *

x.

And he does.

* * *

xi.

" _This man is called Alistair."_

Suddenly everything makes enough sense to Danny. He plays his part and leaves the station, head down and emotionless – broken. When he gets back to the apartment, he heads straight to the bathroom and lays himself in the empty tub.

Alex is _Alistair_.

He runs a hand through his hair, a little frustrated about this whole situation. He slides his sleeve down and the name that has been on his wrist since the beginning of time is still there, clear and beautiful and _alive._ It stares back at him and he sees himself standing in the rain, talking to Alex, full of hope.

" _Sometimes you have to take a chance, right?"_

Then Alex showing up at his door.

" _Otherwise, how do you know?"_

Danny touches the name, which is supposed to belong to someone made just for him.

ALISTAIR.

He slides a little bit further down his bathtub and lets out a shaky breath.

"…Otherwise, how do you know?"

* * *

 **Notes:**

Title from 'Dark Paradise' - Lana Del Rey. Based on the soulmate AU where everyone is born with their soulmate's name on their wrist, and these marks turn into scars when their soulmate dies.


End file.
